


The Return

by nausicaa_of_phaeacia



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Introspection, Prison, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-24 17:46:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17708828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nausicaa_of_phaeacia/pseuds/nausicaa_of_phaeacia
Summary: Just before Bates is released from prison.





	The Return

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theglamourfades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theglamourfades/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Take The Road Forgotten](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17397929) by [theglamourfades](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theglamourfades/pseuds/theglamourfades). 



> I have no idea what I'm doing here. I haven't even really watched Downton Abbey, only skimmed it - for the most part - looking for scenes concerning Bates and/or Anna. I have no interest in the Upstairs; the only other characters I even remotely care about are Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes.
> 
> Anyways, I'm rambling - I have never written anything about these two, nor do I know everything about them. Downton Abbey really isn't my fandom territory! Also, I'd initially planned on writing something different, but this is where that fic went! I just hope it turned out readable :)  
> Huge thanks to theglamourfades, who has been writing the most wonderful and incomparably brilliant Anna/Bates fic (which I've entirely spent my past few days reading). ♥

_See, they return; ah, see the tentative_  
_Movements, and the slow feet,_  
_The trouble in the pace and the uncertain_  
_Wavering!_

_See, they return, one, and by one,_  
_With fear, as half-awakened;_  
_As if the snow should hesitate_  
_And murmur in the wind,_  
_and half turn back;_  
_These were the “Wing’d-with-Awe,"_  
_inviolable._  
  
(Ezra Pound)

***

Darling Anna, of course she’s sent him clothes so he didn’t have to wear neither the ragged shirt he was forced to wear in prison, nor the funeral clothes he was arrested in. As he puts them on, finally allowed to look like his old self again, he still can’t believe his luck. It is all her doing, she’s the only reason he’s still here, the only reason he still wants to be here for. Then, as he’s slowly buttoning up his shirt, the nagging thoughts which never granted him a full night’s sleep in here return, and in full force. 

He can’t do this to her: he can’t go back. He knows Lord Grantham will have sent a car for him – he is going to take it someplace else. Maybe he’ll go to London, disappear in a crowd, go back to being a limping waiter. Not that it matters what he is going to do – not if it’s going to be without her. But she’s sacrificed enough, she’s given him years of her life without second-guessing him even for a moment. She’s had to bear so much pain and suffering, brought upon her by him and only him: the others’ mockery and doubts weighing her down while he was incarcerated; his death sentence; the endless waiting in insecurity. And all the while, she visited him through all these months, wrote him letters every day – oh, her sweet letters! 

But that is the thing with Anna. She has never doubted him for one moment; not before they were married, and not after, not for a minute. He distinctly remembers her reply, spoken at their darkest moment. _I don’t doubt that the sun will rise in the east, either._ She’s never given him reason to think that she didn’t believe in his innocence – or in his kindness. From the very first moment, for whatever reason, he knew Anna would always be on his side. And still, she’s managed to surprise him time and again, taking up the cudgels for him when he least expected it, when he was at his lowest.

And he’s seen her get thinner and paler with every visit, never failing to look at him the way she always did – not even a drop of pity in her eyes, only fountains of love and more love. What he’s done to deserve to meet her, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t deserve to have her in his life, and yet she’s always been at his side. He can’t let himself pull her down any further, not when he’s been causing her nothing but trouble. Nonetheless, Bates doesn’t have the heart to disappear. He could never betray her loyalty, God knows he’s loyal to her, to her only, and always will be. 

Slowly, but as a matter of habit, he reaches into his pockets to make sure they don’t bulge, when his fingers meet something curious. He gently feels for it, and pulls out – a lock of hair, Anna’s hair. He would know her locks anywhere. It’s a tiny braid, slim and even, its edges held together with a piece of red yarn; it seems so small in the palm of his hand it suddenly makes him cry. For a moment, he tells himself this is a farewell note; he tells himself it’s a message telling him to stay away, telling him it’s over. He shakes his head, wipes his eyes with the back of his hand – he knows Anna would never be cruel to him, she could never be cruel to a single soul in her life. All she does is radiate light, light he’d longed for so desperately upon his arrival at Downton. And God knows why she’s promised, why she’s made it her lifelong task to provide him with her light. He doesn’t deserve her in the least.

Carefully hiding the tiny braid in his breast pocket, he puts on his jacket and coat. Sweet Anna, she’s even sent him a hat, has even attached his pocket watch to the jacket. He still can’t believe it, still can’t believe fate allows him to leave this hell to return to his loving wife. It seems too large of a gift after all he’s been through, after all he has put her through. And yet – and he touches his hand to his breast pocket – this is reality, and he can’t help but think that someone, somewhere has just forgiven him for his past, has granted him with yet another chance to make things right, to make the right decisions. 

“Come on, man, Lord knows I haven’t got all day,” the guard bellows, and for the first time since he’s set foot into this prison, Bates feels like chuckling. He picks up his bag, containing all her precious letters, and his cane, making his way to the door in a pace that finally feels familiar. He walks through the first door, and another one, and another one, and it’s not until he manages to open the last one unscathed that he allows himself to believe he’s finally free. That his Anna has set heaven and earth in motion to have him released, and succeeded.

The light hits him unexpectedly. The sudden familiarity of the street he steps onto brings tears to his eyes. And sure as Christ made green apples, there’s the car from Downton, waiting to pick him up. It makes his breast fill with warmth and fear alike; he’s happy to return yet afraid to face his darling Anna, after all she’s had to endure. He wonders if he will find the same love in her eyes as he remembers seeing in them every time she’s looked up at him. 

He can hear the guards clatter behind him and closes the door, turning back to finally walk away, when he sees a woman get out of the parked car. His Anna, his Mrs. Bates has come to meet him; she stands there for a mere second, the surprise on her face mirroring his, before she runs towards him, and he can feel a smile tickle his eyes before they fall into a hug.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! :)
> 
> The poem by Pound is called "The Return" (hence the creative title, ha!). It's from 1912, so obviously from a few years before Bates was released, that's why I told myself he could have read it.


End file.
